


Linger

by Recourse



Series: We Shall All Be Healed [2]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, F/F, First Time Topping, Post-Canon, past amberprice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 03:45:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12004326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recourse/pseuds/Recourse
Summary: Some people outstay their welcome in your head.





	Linger

It’s Chloe’s twenty-first birthday and she belongs to Victoria.

Victoria brought her out here, because she wanted to see New York. She paid for the hotel they’re riding back to right now, she set her up in their apartment back in Portland, she paid for every single drink that she and Chloe shared tonight (and the fake ID that let Victoria herself join the fun.) Chloe is _her fucking girl._ It feels so good to think that. It’s still hard to believe it’s been more than a year, but Victoria’s riding high on alcohol and love as she falls over Chloe in the back of this Uber.

The driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror look distinctly uncomfortable, occasionally letting out a cough as she tries to turn her eyes back to the road. Victoria smirks against Chloe’s lips. God, she’s not usually like this, usually it’s Chloe doing this to her but it is really _fun._ They’re basically horizontal in the backseat now, Victoria softly kissing Chloe’s neck, teasing with her tongue but not rushing it, keeping her keyed-up until they can get back to their room. Chloe whimpers beneath her and it heats Victoria’s skin.

“We’re, uh, here,” the driver says as they come to a stop. Victoria sits up, pushes back her hair, and digs in her purse, tossing what is probably a sufficient tip into the driver’s seat before rushing out, dragging Chloe behind her by the hand. They burst through the lobby doors and up the stairs to the second floor. Chloe’s got the key in her pocket somewhere, but as they reach the door to their room Victoria just slams her against it instead, one hand tugging her shirt down so she can reach Chloe’s collarbone and mark it with deep purple.

“Vic,” Chloe squeaks, “Aah, _fuck,_ Victoria…”

Victoria chuckles into her skin. She doesn’t do this, not usually, not _ever_ , but tonight is for Chloe. Victoria doesn’t need to be the one who’s taken tonight, who’s left gasping and sweating and begging for more. She’s never seen Chloe in quite that state. She wonders if she can bring her there.

With that in mind, she sneaks a hand into Chloe’s front pocket, pushing against her inner thigh. Chloe gasps, a low groan in her voice, but Victoria retreats seconds later with the keycard. She reaches around Chloe and slots the card in, pulls it out, and pushes down the handle. Chloe stumbles backwards, Victoria following close after her, kicking the door shut behind them and throwing the key on the floor.

Her girl. _Hers._ Victoria takes hold of Chloe’s shoulders and throws her down onto the king bed, kicking off her heels as Chloe gets rid of her own sneakers. As soon as they’re off, Victoria falls on top of Chloe, pinning her hands to the bed, running her tongue down Chloe’s neck. Chloe whines, arching beneath Victoria, pushing her their chests together. Victoria licks her lips and holds herself above Chloe, reaching for the hem of her shirt. She inches it up Chloe’s body, scraping her nails along her stomach, watching Chloe bite her lip and squeeze her eyes shut.

Victoria feels her heart pumping madly, the haze of alcohol making Chloe’s skin glow as she lifts off her top. God, she is so beautiful. Victoria’s taken a hundred photographs of Chloe but they’re never as gorgeous as she is in motion, with her face twisted up like this, the hot red flush in her cheeks. She’s amazed sometimes that she actually gets to touch her.

Victoria leans down and gets her bra off too, tossing it against the wall and then lowering her mouth to Chloe’s hard, pierced nipple. She touches her tongue to it, lightly, just a taste, and Chloe tenses up, goosebumps rising on her skin. Victoria suppresses a giggle. So this is what Chloe gets out of this, this feeling of control. Victoria knows she might not do this again, but for now it seems exactly right.

An idea comes to her and gets her heart racing, so she does it, nipping at Chloe with her front teeth. Chloe cries out as Victoria seals her lips around her nipple, her hand coming up to play with her other breast. Victoria loses herself in the taste of flesh and metal, the feeling of her thumb circling, just listening to Chloe react, the way she wordlessly asks for more.

But something’s wrong. Chloe’s breath goes from pleasantly strained to staggered, her chest rising and falling erratically. Wetness comes into her voice, no longer needy but something else, like she’s in pain. Victoria pulls back, looks up, and sees tears shining in the sunset light from the window, trails down Chloe’s face.

Victoria’s blood chills. She fucked something up, didn’t she? Like she always does. She takes her hands off of Chloe, not able to get anything out besides a stammered, “C-Chloe?”

Chloe sniffs, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “I’m sorry,” she gasps, “I—I’m sorry, I…” And she’s suddenly sobbing and Victoria’s breath is starting to escape her too, her chest is tight and her arms shake as she holds herself above Chloe, still straddling her but close to falling.

“What did I do?” Victoria pleads. “Whatever I did—”

“It’s not you,” Chloe interrupts. “P-please, get off me. I can’t…”

Victoria slides off of her, standing up and facing away from her, putting her head in her hands. It’s all her fault, she can’t even give Chloe a decent fucking birthday, she fucked something up because she’s never really good enough, not for anyone, the only reason Chloe keeps her around is because she has no one else, no one _alive._ She’s just a fucking consolation prize.

She hears Chloe crying behind her and can’t face her, what she must have done.

“Hey,” Chloe says softly, struggling through her tears. “Victoria?”

Victoria gasps. Tries not to sob.

“Can you just...come over?”

Victoria summons the nerve to look. Chloe’s holding herself up on her elbows, eyes still puffy and shining, wide open and vulnerable. “Please?”

Victoria nods, crawling back onto the bed and facing Chloe on her side. Chloe buries herself in Victoria’s chest, holding her tight.

“What did I do?” Victoria asks again.

“You—you didn’t do anything, it just…” Chloe swallows. “I...I really liked it, but I just…”

“What?” Victoria insists. “What’s wrong?”

“It felt like her.”

 _Her._ The only _her_ it could be. Almost two years dead and Victoria still can’t compare. Is this how it’s always going to be? Competing with a dead girl, the same one she always fought before, the one she always lost to even when she was alive?

“I’m s-sorry,” and Chloe’s voice cracks again. “I, I thought I was over this, I wanna be fucking over this, but I just…” And she’s sobbing again, and Victoria realizes this isn’t about her at all. It’s not even about Rachel. It’s still Chloe’s day, and Victoria will be here for her, and all her losses, like she has been.

So she tells Chloe it’s all right, holds her close, and lets her fall into sleep, hoping that one day she can be healed.

 

* * *

 

Chloe wakes up alone in bed, the sun higher than it probably should be. Her head pounds with a hangover, her throat dry and scratchy. She smells smoke in the air.

“Babe?” she calls out.

“In here,” comes the reply, from the kitchen. Chloe slides out of bed, feeling stiff and uncomfortable in her jeans. She really should’ve taken those off last night.

God, last night. What a fucking disaster. Why can’t she ever just have a good day? Why does it always have to be like this? Rachel is _dead,_ she’s been dead a long time and Chloe loves Victoria now. She’s happy to be with her, so happy, so why can’t she just let it go? Is she that pathetic?

She finds Victoria sitting at the little table in the kitchen, two Styrofoam boxes laid out on it, full of what appear to be cheesecake-filled pancakes and bacon. Chloe’s nose points her eyes to the trash can first before she sits down, however, and spots some blackened mess at the top of the bag.

“I tried to make you pancakes and bacon myself first,” Victoria says with an apologetic smile. “You know, the romantic breakfast in bed shit. Waste of a grocery store trip, as usual…”

Chloe chuckles. “Vic, if you actually wanna learn to cook sometime, you can just ask.”

“But it’s just one of my many charming qualities!”

“Yeah, it is.” Chloe smiles at her, sitting down across from her at the table. She rubs the back of her neck, silence stretching between them. “Vic...about last night…”

“It’s okay,” Victoria says. “I don’t blame you. I’ve never lost someone like that, it’s just—”

“No, it’s not fucking fair to you. I...shit.” Chloe picks at her food. “Look, I was really fucking into it, okay? I—I like it when you’re kinda rough. And on top. And stuff. It’s just, you’re not usually like that, and she was, and it was always when we were fucking drunk too so she could act like it didn’t happen, and…” She chokes and covers her mouth. “I really love you, and you treat me better, and I don’t want to — to not be able to…” She takes in a deep breath. “Sometimes I hate that she’s still in my head.”

Victoria reaches her hand across the table, and Chloe takes it gladly. “Chloe, I know,” Victoria says simply. “I know.”

Chloe holds onto her hand for stability, for the reassurance that she _is_ moving on, no matter what stumbling blocks there may be. Every time she looks at Victoria she remembers the year they’ve been together, when they both grew so much. Victoria’s always let her fall, and offered her hand to get her back to her feet.

Victoria leans over the table and kisses her on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, Chloe.”


End file.
